Agape
by christeeny
Summary: "I was thinking we should have one of those quiet dinners you said we never get." Tag to 4x02. Just some fluff picking up where the episode left off.


_Captain Hook is holding my hand._

It was such a bizarre thought, but it was one that randomly floated into Emma Swan's head as she sat curled up in a chair in the loft, swaddled like a newborn baby in her mother's patchwork quilts, a warm heater in front of her, and a callused hand intertwined with her own.

As if Killian could hear her thoughts, the ring-adorned hand in question began to pull away, and Emma felt her heart stutter at the thought that he was leaving, her fingers desperately clawing at his palm. A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest (which she could feel because she was practically on top of him, the way she was leaning over the edge of the chair into his warm chest), and he leaned down to brush his lips over the crown of her head.

"I'm just going to fetch your beverage," he murmured against her hair. "I think the lad has become too distracted with the ice woman's tale to remember it."

Sure enough, Emma glanced over her shoulder and saw Henry, Snow and David all circled eagerly around Elsa as she talked about Arendelle, her sister Anna, her sister's fiancé, and… did she hear something about a sassy reindeer named Sven? (Yeah, she definitely wasn't recovered from her hypothermia yet.) While her attention was diverted, Killian had stood up, letting out a soft groan as he stretched his legs, and Emma realized for the first time that he'd been crouching at her side for the better part of an hour. It was only her guilt over his discomfort that prevented her from grabbing his hand as he walked over to the kitchen.

Gathering her blankets more securely around her, Emma struggled to her feet and shuffled across the room, careful of the heater on the floor (though, she supposed, if a fire were to break out, they _did_ have a woman with ice powers on hand). She hadn't even taken more than three steps before a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Oi! And just where do you think you're going?"

Killian set the steaming mug of cocoa he'd been carrying down on a nearby end table and was at her side in an instant.

"To the couch," she said, nodding her head in its direction. She tried to raise her eyebrows at him in challenge, but her frozen facial muscles were still a bit uncooperative at the moment, so she settled for a firm stare.

"And why exactly are you moving when you have a perfectly good seat over there?" he questioned, his own raised eyebrows working perfectly.

Emma sighed heavily. "Because _you_ didn't." She looked away from his baffled face and continued her slow shuffle, but his arms came around her and hoisted her up like he had done at the ice wall earlier, carrying her the rest of the way.

"Can't leave you alone for a bloody minute," he mumbled as he set her down on the couch, rearranging her blankets around her and dragging the heater over towards her again.

Emma couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips at the unexpected show of domesticity from the infamous pirate captain, and he returned with a similar smile of his own as he came over to sit down carefully at her side, mug of cocoa in hand.

"There you are, love," he murmured softly, handing her the mug.

Her body flushed with warmth at his endearment, which seemed to take on a whole new meaning after tonight. She knew he had feelings for her, knew he had vowed to win her heart, knew he had traded his ship to find her, but after tonight? After almost freezing to death in that ice cave and hearing his desperation over the walkie talkie, after seeing his face when Elsa had blasted a hole out and throwing her arms around him when she stumbled out, after feeling him crush her to him like his last lifeline and carry her in his arms back to the car, after having him at her side, _holding her hand_ while he crouched beside her, trying to warm her up? After tonight, she had seen up-close the lengths he would go to for her and how much she meant to him.

And maybe it was the near-death experience making her rash, or maybe it just served to clear her mind, but Emma knew she didn't want to be afraid anymore. Her dad's words about looking for the good moments and Killian's words about enjoying the quiet moments circled in her head as she set her mug on the table beside her. She looked back over at Killian, who had his arm around her, his fingers idly playing with one of her curls and his eyes closed as he pressed his forehead into her hair. Her own hand slid up his chest to rest over his heart, reassured by its steady beat under her palm. His eyes blinked open to stare down at her questioningly, and she smiled softly in return.

"Remember how I asked you to be patient?" she asked, her other hand reaching up to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. He nodded, still watching her carefully. "Well, I decided that was stupid."

Killian raised his eyebrows as a small smile played at his lips. "Is that so?"

"Mmhmm." Emma's fingers massaged the back of his neck. "I was thinking we should have one of those quiet dinners you said we never get."

Killian's eyes glittered down at her, his mouth splitting into a wide grin. "Why, Swan, are you asking me out on a date?"

Emma huffed, rolling her eyes, though she couldn't contain her own grin in return. "You don't have to act so smug about it."

"I believe after the wait I've endured to hear you ask such a thing, I've earned the right to gloat a bit, wouldn't you say?" he teased, dropping his head closer to hers.

"Perhaps," she responded coyly, tugging his head down even closer, her eyes focused on his lips.

Killian pulled back just before their lips met, however, and fixed her with a firm look. "Can we agree to have no ice monsters or cave-ins or any disasters of the sort on this date? As much as I love traipsing through the woods at your side, it's bad form not to court a lady properly, surely even in this realm."

Emma paused to consider. "Well, this is Storybrooke, so no promises." At Killian's unimpressed frown, she let out a soft giggle (seriously, what does this man do to her?). "But I promise to turn off my walkie talkie for the evening and turn all disasters over to David. Is that acceptable?"

His answering kiss was more than enough, but when he pulled away, leaving her more than a little breathless, he smiled down at her.

"It's a date."


End file.
